


you have spent your life among the dead

by mermaidinamanhole



Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Depression, Detectives, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inner Dialogue, Past Relationship(s), Sad Ending, Slut Shaming (referenced), Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse (referenced), inspired by her tape but also the wiki page, kerry deserved better tbh, most of the characters in the tags are just mentioned like once btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidinamanhole/pseuds/mermaidinamanhole
Summary: Some of so-called “jigsaw expert” Detective Allison Kerry’s thoughts leading up to her kidnapping and death.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	you have spent your life among the dead

**Author's Note:**

> title is a reference to her jigsaw tape. rated m for potentially upsetting material. no smut or graphic violence here  
> \---  
> content warning: suicidal thoughts, references to verbal abuse and slut shaming, implied

In the weeks following the raid on Wilson Steel, Detective Allison Kerry felt, well, conflicted. For one, she was absolutely swamped with casework on John Kramer, working overtime more nights than not, although that was nothing new with the case of the Jigsaw Killer. However, the city was in a panic, and that caused the police department and the FBI special agents who were beginning to get involved to be spread thin.

Secondly, the discovery of Daniel Matthews and disappearance of his father was putting an additional strain on the whole Jigsaw affair. Daniel, the poor kid, was taken care of pretty quickly, surprisingly enough. Although he had gone through some undeniably life-affecting trauma, Daniel was not the PD’s responsibility, and so, he went back to live with his mother rather uneventfully. However, Eric was a different case. Because Eric had been working behind the desk prior to going missing, that meant his paperwork had to be distributed around the department, with most of it ending up with Kerry since she was one of the only ones who had been there since the beginning or even knew what she was talking about for that matter. 

Kerry found herself surrounded by seemingly countless ghosts of her former partner. A collection of cigarette butts in the ashtray at his desk, a booze stained button down hanging on the door, his accolade hanging on the wall, they were all just reminders of him. “Game over,” John Kramer, the jigsaw killer, had said. At that moment no one understood but in retrospect, it made perfect sense; the police department, SWAT team, and tech team had failed. Detective Matthews was gone. And the remnants of his presence scattered around the office deepened everyone’s guilt. It was torturous, worse than being in any trap devised by Jigsaw. Where Kramer’s “tests” were theatrical punishments, representative of the victim’s sins, created from the view of an onlooker, this was something completely different. This was cold and personal and most of all sick. 

Constantly being around things that reminded her of Eric made Allison realize that little to none of the emotion she felt was based on missing Eric himself. And for that, she felt more and more terrible as the days passed. Maybe it was because she was hardly anything more than a sullen bag of bones. Or because she was even worse than John Kramer himself, Kerry would never know. At least Kramer had strong enough vendettas against enough people to institute a passionate ideology and serial killing career. At least he’d be remembered. 

But it was hard to feel bad, even anything at all, for the man who’d call her a “pathetic whore” the second the door shut, and undoubtedly even worse things when he went behind her back. In truth, it was nothing more than a one night stand, under the influence of too much stress, no love, and not enough booze, but that one night stand robbed Kerry of the little reputation she had left. 

One look at Kerry’s apartment- with its half dozen stained coffee cups strewn about, papers spread upon the unmade bed, and the haphazardly set up VHS player- could tell one anything they needed to know about Kerry. In short, her work life was bleeding into her home life, and (regrettably) vice versa.

\------------------------------------------

Working closely with Officer Rigg made the pressure to locate Eric even more intense. Rigg was so driven by his emotions that it was exhausting to be around him under “normal” circumstances in this situation, but Kerry, being Eric’s former paramour made it unbearable. Without even saying anything, Rigg radiated “maybe if you cared a little more…” towards her. Yes, he was Eric’s close friend, but was this judgement really necessary?

As she drove back to her apartment on the empty industrial streets, Allison Kerry realized that she could very possibly be a target for the next game. Not only had she been viewing her life as less-than-valuable as of late, but she was also the FBI’s liaison to the case. No one outside of the department knew this, as it was being kept fairly under wraps for safety purposes, but Kerry wouldn’t have been surprised if the information somehow got to Kramer or his associates. Special agents Strahm and Perez had expressed the idea of someone on the inside potentially being involved with the murders, which would explain John Kramer’s ability to obtain police files and evidence. Kerry put her foot down on the pedal just a little bit heavier.

Kerry turned the key to enter her apartment, just as quickly turning the key to lock it. Even on a normal day she was a cautious woman, but now, especially after rationalizing the possibility of being in danger as a logical one, she was trying to be as careful as possible. 

She slowly made her way to the bathroom, stopping every few feet to check for noises. Upon entering the room, she locked that door behind her as well. Kerry began to run a bath, turning the knobs to adjust the temperature, and intermittently sprinkling in epsom salts in an attempt to relax her muscles. Once the water was opaque, she peeled off her clothes, turned the knob to stop the water flow, and stepped into the tub. She looked up at the ceiling, attempting to resist the flashes of “Look closer, Detective Matthews” invading her line of vision.

Sinking a little deeper into the cloudy water, Kerry sighed. If only she’d been more perceptive to John Kramer’s words- “He’s in a safe place…” Maybe, just maybe, she should’ve connected it to the human sized safe sitting in the corner. She should’ve used her physical training and pushed past Rigg, convincing Eric to sit and talk to Kramer for just a little while more. If she’d done that, maybe he would not have beaten his fists down on the old man, snapping; like John Kramer had wanted all along.

It was then when Kerry stepped out of the tub, partially because she was afraid that she just might give in to the call of the void and let herself drown, but mostly due to the piles of casework lying in wait on her bed. She toweled off and threw on some pajamas. Suddenly, as she turned to face the steamed-over mirror, she saw him. 

He was standing behind her, a looming presence, guilt in his eyes, all for her. However, when she let out a shriek, he was gone.

After what seemed like hundreds of deep breaths and just as many splashes of cold water to the face, Kerry sat on her bed, careful not to crush any of the loose sheets of paper, and began to rifle through the pages in search of a suitable place to start. Soon she was in the flow of work, getting through more documents than she’d anticipated. This made her almost enjoy the work on its own- it was impersonal and numbing. 

But right as she was finally satisfied, engrossed in something and content with life, Allison Kerry felt her stomach drop.

She hit pause on the tape she was reviewing at the moment. The VHS player switched to footage of her sitting in bed, and at the same moment, something rustled. It was coming from the closet, and it was one hundred percent real. No ex-partners in the reflection, no words on the ceiling. 

Kerry grabbed her gun, hands shaking, and crept to the closet door. She opened the door, there was a flash of the grotesque pig mask, signature to the Jigsaw Killer, and the stab of a syringe in her neck, and everything went dark.

\------------------------------------------

“Hello, Kerry. I want to play a game…”

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully you liked this! i'm trying to be more active on here, so let me know if you have any saw related fic ideas for me :)


End file.
